Soul Purpose
by ShewolfAngelus
Summary: Each day and age faces a new problem for these lovers to overcome in order to fulfill a promise made long ago. Do believe in reincarnation? How long can a soul live on? Historical Fiction Taken from the concept of Cloud Atlas
1. Prologue

Prologue

Have you ever wondered what happens to our essence after we pass on from our current life? Or how about that moment you meet someone who seems so damn familiar! This person…it seems like you've known them all your life, but honestly you've just met.

There is something inside of us that doctors and scientists cannot see. It's the spark that makes us who we are. It goes beyond our genetic makeup and neurons or synapses. It's what makes us like rock music or attracted to someone of the same sex. It's the unexplainable part within ourselves that we cannot deny.

What happens to this part of us when we die? Can this essence live on? If it did…how might it change over centuries as the way of life changes?

This is the story of two souls and how they've changed through time, but the blue prints that draw them together still remain. Some might call them soul mates….some might compare them to Romeo and Juliet…and others might say it's simply a coincidence that cannot be proven.


	2. Chapter 1: 326 BC - 323 BC

Chapter One: 326 BC – 323 BC

Hydaspes River

Hephaestion looked over at Alexander the Great as he sat staring at a hand drawn map of the river. His toes sank into the fur carpet that lined his tent. The others had just left with orders to gather their men. He too was given orders but Alexander seemed troubled, a rare moment.

"What's troubling you? You may be able to hide it from them, but I see right through it," Hephaestion confessed his concern.

His eyes never left the map, "do you think we'll grow old together? Watch our sons learn what places we've been able to conquer, or what tough enemies we've fought."

This candidness didn't shock the companion, but it did have odd timing. "I think we will. After this we should return home. The men are tired and they're losing their confidence. This jungle is a heartless place." Hephaestion moved closer to him and gently started to massage his shoulders, "you've already done more than Macedonians could ever dream. Let's return home and enjoy the spoils of it all."

He shook his head, "Once I defeat King Porus we can keep marching east. The ends of the maps!"

"Of course," he nodded in agreement. "We are outnumbered. We've lost so many men to the snakes…the sickness…and exhaustion. The men will rise up if you push them further from home."

Alexander was irritated by this, "I know the state of my men…I know we are outnumbered. Please tell me something I don't know..." his fist pounded the table that threatened to break. "Get your men together and prepare for battle."

Hephaestion sighed and moved away from him and grabbed his helmet before leaving the tent.

Once he had left the tent, he too prepared for battle. He put on his clothes for battle and looked over the plan for attack one last time.

Outside his tent his horse was waiting for him. "Bucephalus," he whispered like a lover to his black horse. "Are you ready to ride today?" The black horse had been with him since leaving his homeland. The once deemed unbreakable horse was the only horse he could trust to ride into battle. He gave a nod of his large head before Alexander was set to ride and join the march of his men toward the river.

It was a tactic Alexander had used in the past…his signature move. The army would be split and two sides would ride around the battlefield to strike from behind…trapping the enemy. The unknown factor was the elephants. King Porus's army used elephants to ride into battle. The giants could crush anything in their path.

This was in no way an easy battle to win. Hephaestion was right about their numbers. They were greatly outnumbered and that was why his strategy was important.

He took his men up stream while others faced a direct crossing of the river. With Coenus going the other side, they stood an even greater chance of surprise and eventual victory. As he passed around the battlefield he could hear the chaos and wondered how Tauron was doing against those elephants.

Bucephalus raced harder and faster knowing Coenus was probably ahead on the right wing. He turned his head one last time and nodded to Hephaestion before splitting off from the cavalry to take on Porus. The chaos was already pushing the Indians towards the elephants for protection, but amid the chaos…the elephant soldiers were turning on their own.

He was scouting around and checking the field while also searching for Porus. His sword was tight in his hand and the reigns in the other. "Where are you…."

Porus charged Alexander with his sword out and he responded with his own sword drawn. With a grin he rode away realizing he had wounded Porus.

The mistake he made was turning his back on the king. Hephaestion had always kept a close eye on his leader.

"NOOOOOOOO!" The scream came from his gut as he saw the king with his sword raised and charging back to him.

Alexander could hear his scream over the battle and turned to see his enemy rushing toward him. In an effort to dodge the blade he accidently fell off his horse and dropped to the ground. He shielded his face with his left hand until he got up to his feet.

Porus's army was soon falling apart around him. Elephants were dying as a result of his men's victory. Instinctively he knew he was done for and dropped his sword…his shoulder bleeding profusely.

"Surrender. I surrender! Please. You can have it. You can have it all."

Alexander's men took hold of him while they helped him off the battlefield to treat him.

He was taken away and given water to drink, but he pushed them aside. The men were cheering in victory and they were set to contain the elephants left and enslave those left standing.

Porus was taller than him, but he kept his eyes down. He was waiting for it…for Alexander to either cut his throat or stab his chest.

"How do you wish to be treated?" he said almost at a murmur.

The shocked king dropped to his knees and began to beg, "Like a king! Please, I beg! Treat me like a king!"

To the surprise of his men and King Porus…Alexander the Great nodded in agreement. "I will own all of this, but you shall still rule your kingdom under my direction."

There was something about the king that Alexander admired. Perhaps it was his strength or his ability to take him by surprise in that one moment. Whatever the case…Alexander had mercy on him.

The toll on his army was staggering…a little over a thousand men were lost and more injured. Upon seeing Hephaestion they embraced each other closely and tightly.

"I saw his blade. I feared you wouldn't hear me in time," he confessed to Alexander's ear. "Now that you've won…please tell me you've considered going back home. We lost so many men now…and there are more that will not survive another battle. Their motivation is lost. They need to see their families again. Some have sons that are as old they were when they left. They grew up without their father…without their brothers."

He looked into his lover's eyes. He saw past the blood on his cheeks, the dirt in his brow and the sweat in his hair. "I love you Hephaestion, but you know more than anyone else that I can't stop. We must move on. We cannot let those thousands of lives be in vain! Can we?"

There was a look of disappointment on the companion's face as he finished his speech. He thought of all the men…Hephaestion would have to understand.

"No, but how many more will die if we keep digging deeper? You had a close call today…and Bucephalus is weak. Since the battlefield he hasn't been able to stand on his own. Might be an injury…might be old age," he was afraid of breaking this news.

"Bucephalus?!" Alexander pulled away from him and rushed through the lines of wounded and found his old friend resting on the ground…panting hard from being forced to try and stand. He got down on his knees and petted his head.

"It's okay, I'm here," he said softly to calm the black beauty.

The eyes of the horse seemed to bore into his…pleading in his own way for the pain to leave. It calmed down a little with his owner's gentle touch and eventually he passed on.

Alexander could not hide his tears as he lost his trusted companion. By the time he got to his tent he was inconsolable and Hephaestion was there to ease his sorrow.

With a gentle kiss he then let the great leader rest his head in his lap. There was nothing he could say to calm him, so he stayed quiet as darkness fell. The tired troops turned to their beds and the lights went out.

Once he calmed himself from his crying he was able to speak again at a whisper:

"I do fear they'll turn against me, but it's just so hard to stop. We'll be making history Hephaestion. School boys...like we were, will learn about what we did here. These men will be heroes when they return home. I want to return home too…only with no regrets."

"You can't possibly regret anything," he touched his cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. "You are the smartest and most adventurist person I know." He looked down at him as Alexander was starting to get up. "You are my Achilles," he leaned in and kissed his perfectly soft lips.

"And you…my Patroclus. I couldn't do this without you. Let's not talk about tomorrow yet, okay?" Alexander laid back down on his bed and smiled as he joined him there.

"Did you see those elephants? Incredible…Imagine if we had an army of those beasts? We could beat two armies at once. They could guard the entire empire." Hephaestion knew Alexander's wheels were turning.

"That would be something. What if the elephants turn against us and trample the city?" he looked over at him. "I saw the way those elephants turned on their keepers."

"Yeah, guess you're right about that." He noticed his eyes were closing with sleep. "Night Alexander."

He smiled and put a hand through his hair, "good night."

* * *

My name is Alexander. I am far from home in the hell that is the jungle. My men are close to leaving me in mutiny, but how can we leave when we are this close? It's been raining nonstop….the miserable rain. The gods must weep for the lives that been lost on campaign. These men that I had come to know and care greatly about…they have lost their lives for me, for this quest.

"Alexander?"

Ahhhh, the sweet voice of Hephaestion sings to my ears as his hand rests on my shoulder in concern. The soldiers stand around in silence as they wait for me to hear their concern.

"It's been raining for seventy days and nights! We are tired and we yearn for home. Please! Let us return home to see our families before it is too late…." Coenus went on and I listened.

I had already seen the warning signs and I had finally pushed them to the breaking point. Our numbers were low and another battle would destroy us if the enemy was fierce. This was a tricky situation and as it pained me to do this….I knew we could not continue like this…moral was too low.

I cleared my throat and looked at the men as they were eager to hear this.

"We have come very far…we have seen success and we have all experienced great loss," I continued. "We still have a long journey ahead of us…" I paused, "as we march for home."

I had never seen such happy faces and celebration. Some were too in shock to move. Hephaestion slowly turned to me and was careful not to show too much excitment, "I think you made a good decision on this. I know how much you want to continue."

"I've tried, but I cannot convince them to go any further. We must turn back," I put my hand through his hair. "I just hope I've made the right decision today."

It wasn't long after this that reinforcements came. They also came with troubling news…the Mallians the Oxydracians were laying aside their differences in order to fight us. Those two armies combined would be a lot to handle…I needed to prevent them from joining forces to destroy us.

We were able to make great timing by reaching them in just five days down the river. It seemed we had come accustomed to the rain and knew no different. Sailing down the rivers however was treacherous, and the boats didn't always hold up with the current and rocks.

Once we made landfall, plans immediately went into place and we destroyed our first city in hopes of setting an example for the other tribes.

I split my army into three this time and my forces would march through the desert to surprise the Mallians and put them fleeing in the direction I wanted them to go…which would be right into Hephaestion. Ptolemey would be three days or so behind my army.

We were unstoppable. We went from town to town and killed them all. Raid after raid left us hungry for more. Victory was so close we could taste it. My cavalry was small in number, but when the infantry came it was an easy win. Mallians were running back to their city for protection. When they ran…we gave chase.

"TO THE CITY!" I raised my sword and pointed it in the direction of Multan.

* * *

All I heard before racing to my horse was that Alexander was dead. We were some four days away now and news came of the battle at the Citadel. Alexander had slain the leader and met a tragic death shortly after. All I knew was that he was…or could be dead. I refused to believe it until I saw with my own eyes.

I could barely rest to give the horse a break, but if I didn't I'd be stranded in the desert. Nights were sleepless as the possibilities haunted my every thought. Not here…not in this Hell. Not this soon.

So many thoughts were going through my head; I constantly prayed to the gods that he was still alive.

On the fourth day I came upon his tents and jumped off the horse. I rushed so quickly towards them that I wasn't' even recognized and they thought I was an enemy. I pushed through them till I was down at his side. There were blood soaked bandages over his chest. An arrow pierced him and he looked close to death, but he was ALIVE!

"I thought you dead," I finally got out the words as I took his hand into mind and held it to my chest. "I rode nonstop once I got word eight days ago. I should have been here…I should have fought with you. Were you being reckless again? Alexander…must you forget you have no heir? You can't afford to put your life on the line like this!"

He opened his eyes to me and could see I was covered in sweat, my skin rough and eyes wet with tears. "Let's go home," he simply whispered

I smiled, "Home. We are going home. Don't you dare give up on me baby."

He reached out for water and I helped him to drink…holding his head up as I poured from the skin. I rubbed his cheek and promised to look after him now that I was here. Already I could hear a familiar voice shouting from a distance…Craterus.

I huffed before leaving the tent to address him. "What is this about Craterus? Must you disturb the king while he's resting?"

The other officer glared seeing me there, "Things are going to get crazy if they believe he's dead. You KNOW this, Hephaestion."

As much as I hated the man…he was right. "I hope you're not asking him to ride a horse just to put some rumors to rest."

"No…no, nothing like that. But they do need to see him and the sooner the better. We can put him on a boat and let them see that he is in fact alive. Once he's well enough we can go further."

Taking him down the river was a horrible idea! The rivers were dangerous for men in perfect health. "It sounds too risky," I folded my arms.

"Then let's ask what he thinks. We'll let him decide for himself."

I didn't like the idea of this…Alexander did not need him barging in and asking questions about the moral of his men. "I don't think we need to be bothering him with this silliness." I stood before him with my sword drawn.

"You wouldn't dare…" he glared at me and pulled out his sword.

Our swords clashed and we were fighting each other. The problem was much larger than talking to our sick king. Craterus and I always battled each other and now we were past the tipping point. I wanted his blood on my sword. I managed to cut his arm, but he knocked my sword out and we battled on the ground until some of the other soldiers separated us.

Craterus wasn't listening to me and continued to Alexander's bed.

"Alexander, the men believe you're dead. We must do something! They need to see you to restore their hope. Without you….they think they will never see home again! Please, we need orders."

He sat up and was visibly in pain.

"We need to be on the move anyway…We'll finish going down the river. Put me on a boat and the men will see. Then, Craterus, I want you to take your men to Carmania right now. We will cross the desert and meet in Susa."

I nodded because I was glad that Craterus was venturing a different way. I looked at him and waited for him to leave before I sat down with him and checked his head for a fever.

"I'm fine. Please…enough of this!" he whined and was reaching for some food.

I handed him the bread and sat near him. "I don't know how you can stand Craterus…Earlier I almost…." I stopped and sighed knowing he didn't need to hear this. "I'm sorry; I guess I'm just tired."

I collapsed next to him and fell asleep.

1 Year Later

Ecbatana

He was sweating and refusing any medical attention. Alexander rushed to Hephaestion's side upon hearing he was deathly ill. Once he got into the room his friend looked pale and near death.

"OUT! OUT! EVERYONE OUT!" he shouted to the people at his bedside.

They quickly scurried out of the room in fear of what he'd do to them.

"Tell me what's wrong? How can I fix this?" he got close his face and asked him.

"I'm sick…it's just a small illness. I'll be fine. I just need some rest," he reached up and cupped his cheek. "and I'm cold…hold me?"

It was risky for Alexander to be close to his friend as he was deathly sick, but he wasn't about let him suffer.

"I've got you. I'm not letting go of you," he said sweetly and held him close to keep him warm as his body shook.

"I love you, Alexander," he whispered to him with his eyes closed. "Perhaps….in the Elysian Fields we will be together. That we won't be bound by these customs and we'll have that dream."

"Yes," he smiled. "Our sons will play together while we stay heroes, forever young and rich. We can still have that dream, baby. Don't leave me…not like this. Not now…we have so much ahead of us. I love you Hephaestion."

Alexander kissed his head and realized he wasn't moving. He sat up and shook him in a panic. "DOCTOR! DOCTOR! NOOOOOOO!" he screamed out and tapped his cheek to wake him up.

They pushed him out of the way as they tried to revive the sickly man. It was useless…Hephaestion had succumbed to his illness.

Alexander took his passing with great difficulty. He banned music and every surrounding city had to mourn along with him. Alexander could not part with his friend…even as he grew cold and stiff. In his grief…he was able to give his dear friend a funeral fit for a king.

The doctor he held responsible was executed swiftly along with offerings for his departed friend. While everything was being prepared…the king shut himself in his room for many days and refused to eat or speak to anyone. This was the greatest loss in his entire life and one he was not prepared to face.

"I made a promise to you," he spoke while his eyes were closed. "I will keep my promise."

Despite the many theories….it was grief that killed the Great Alexander of Macedonia. When the grief became too much, doctors feared he was partly insane. Hellebore was used then to treat his depression and eventually an accidental overdose killed Alexander just one year later.


	3. Chapter 2: May 1349

Chapter 2: May 1349

Barcelona, Spain

It had finally arrived. We had done so much to prevent its arrival, but we were silly to think we were immune. My aunt was sick. She was the first case in my family and the first to die. There was no ceremony, no funeral, no last rites, since a priest refused to go near her. Someone came and loaded her onto a pile of others destined for a mass grave outside the city.

My name is Franchesca Gianinie and I am but only fourteen years. News of the great sickness terrified me. It seemed like a blanket that covered towns and killed everyone. Symptoms were death sentence and it was such a painful ordeal. Some people tried to leave the city, while others stocked up on supplies and went into hiding.

I ran along the brick streets to find my friend Arabelle. I wanted to tell her that my aunt was finally gone. When I knocked on the door her brother answered and told me that their mother was sick. In order to keep his sister safe, he sent her to the church. I kindly thanked him and ran off to the nearby church.

As I walked I saw some people looking around themselves suspiciously. It was as if someone was out to get them…that Death was like a pickpocket that chose his victims at random.

I kept my hands close and I stayed away from those that looked ill. By the time I made it to the church I wanted to cry and return to my bed.

"Arabelle?" I called out at a whisper.

"Franchesca?" She popped her head up from a pew.

I rushed over to her and gave her a hug. "I went to your house. Julio told me….I'm sorry."

Her body shook as I could tell she was starting to cry again. We were the same age, but Arabelle always felt like a little sister to me. She seemed safe here and that's what I wanted for her. We talked for some time before I had to head back while there was still sunlight.

"I wish I could stay here with you, but my dad wants me home. I just came to see how you were. Then I'll send you a letter and we'll communicate that way. It's too dangerous otherwise; I might bring the sickness with me."

She gave me a hug and wished me luck on my journey back home. I didn't want to return home. I feared what I would see along the way…not just the coughing, the vomiting of blood in the streets, but the lack of people in the streets to begin with. It was empty just as I had imagined it. I ran as quickly as I could back home…but when I turned a corner I ran right into someone and hit my head on the stone ground.

* * *

Raphael Quintero was a musician. He practiced day and night to follow in his older brother's footsteps and become famous…it was his destiny. Rafe was worried about his family and his city. So far his family was untouched by the terrible sickness. It only made him more paranoid when went out and saw the people wandering around sick. No one seemed to know how people were getting sick. They were afraid to get food…could they trust the people selling it not to be sick? What about the water? There were rumors that the water was poisoned.

Rafe rubbed the sweat from his eyebrows as he carried a basket of foods from one of the few markets still open. As he turned the corner he ran right into a young woman and she fell back and hit her head. He panicked and dropped his things to help her. Rafe had completely put aside the fact that she might have the illness as he got close to her. With his hand on her chest he realized she was still breathing. He tapped her but she wasn't moving.

"Great…just great…" he looked around. There was no around to help and he couldn't just leave her there.

He put the basket down his arm so his hands were free, and then he was able to pick her up. It wasn't easy carrying her, but he made it to his house and his brother was the first to say something sarcastic.

"Amazing, your looks finally struck a woman dead?" he patted his back.

"She's not dead. She fell and hit her head…there was no one else to help her. I had to!"

He grinned, "You did good brother. She looks about your type…who knows, maybe she'll wake up and think you're her honey!"

They laughed at Rafe and teased him a little more until his mother got them to go away. She helped him clean her up a little since she had fallen down on the dirty ground.

"How long till she wakes up?" he asked.

"I don't know…shouldn't be too much longer. Reminds me of the time your father fell from the ladder," she gave him a warm smile of hope.

"Oh…I left the food in the kitchen," he said to her before she left.

Rafe watched her as it seemed she was just sleeping. She also looked cold to him, so he got a blanket to lay on her. There, now she looked perfect. Yes, she had the most beautiful dark hair, smooth olive skin, and could imagine she had brown eyes…or maybe a majestic green?

She began to stir and was immediately confused.

"Where am I?" she sat up and rubbed the back of her head.

"Hi, you're at my home. We ran into each other and you hit your head on the ground. How do you feel?"

She looked at him as if to ask if he was serious, "Hurts a little, but yes, I'm fine. Wait…who are you again? I don't believe we've met."

He smiled. Her eyes were a majestic green. As he looked at her it seemed like he had known her from somewhere, but he couldn't place it.

"Sorry, Raphael Quintero…but my family calls me Rafe. What were you doing out there anyway? It's dangerous."

She was looking at him in complete shock. Was he just ridiculing her for walking down the street? Since when was that a crime? How was this any of his business anyway?

"Excuse me, but you were out there as well Senior Quintero. So I don't think it is your place to judge me. I should really get going. Yikes is it almost sundown? My family must be worried." She got up to her feet and waited to be escorted to the door.

"Wait...I haven't yet caught your name—"

"Franchesca…Gianinie," she offered him a smile.

"That's a beautiful name. I wish you could stay for dinner. You see, I was out getting food when we crossed paths. Please, stay and eat? It's the least I could do for that nasty fall you took."

She studied him as he sat on the edge of the bed still. It made her wonder if there was more to this. Since she was entering the age of marriage, Franchesca had been leery of the boys around her. He was cute though, she had to admit that. There was a charm to him that made her want to know more about him.

"Alright, but let me first send a letter to my family. Otherwise they'll be worried about me."

She moved to his desk and started to write. This amazed Rafe because not too many women had the means to be educated.

"Please don't take offense to this but, how did you learn to write?" he stood over her.

Franchesca only briefly paused, "I had someone teach me when I was seven. It took a few years, but I think I've gotten pretty good at it."

She handed him the letter with the address on the outside. "My aunt was widowed at a young age. She taught herself to read and write in order to run his business. My mother thought it would be important for me to learn as well."

He was blown away by her and intrigued. There was so much he wanted to know. Rafe left her to give the letter to a neighbor to be sent right away. When he went back inside he found her admiring his guitar.

"Do you play well?" She sat down again with her hands folded on her lap eager to listen.

"Yeah," he blushed a little in admitting that to her. "I take it you'd like me to play?"

"Yes, please? It's been so long since I've heard music."

He agreed and picked up the instrument and tuned it before playing a tune. Rafe chose something upbeat. It was a sharp contrast to the ballads that he enjoyed playing to beautiful women. Franchesca seemed different. He played and tapped his foot on the floor.

"Oh!" she jumped up from her seat and started to dance in the open space. The young woman was grabbing up parts of her dress to swing about as she twirled in circles to the sweet melodies.

This pushed Rafe further to something he had never done before: he started to sing the lyrics to one of his favorite songs.

Franchesca had heard this song and knew enough to sing along with him. She danced around his room and ignored the face of his brother in the doorway.

They were having a good time until Rafe had to pause as he started coughing. It made her concerned, but he waved it off saying he had some allergies to food from earlier…that's why he had to go to the store.

* * *

I was worried. Only I couldn't let her know that I thought I had the blue sickness. I could I tell her that when I had gone out for food I planned to never come back. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I knew I had gotten my family sick to death.

Now this tiny miracle had come into my life. Franchesca was like a breath of fresh air that made me forget about the cough and the trembling I desperately tried to hide.

We sat around the dinner table and made a prayer before eating. It was the usual prayer…praying to get through this time together. I felt guilty and like someone holding a deep dark secret. I was paranoid that others would find out what I was hiding.

If Franchesca hadn't shown up then I would have been far away from them. They wouldn't be at risk of the danger I was putting them in right now. I ate little, but so did everyone else. That's the interesting thing about fear—it takes away your appetite. The only one who really seemed to be eating was Franchesca. She ate like a starved homeless person.

"Hey, slow down there before your stomach explodes," I smiled at her.

She looked up with a smile and spoke after swallowing. "I'm sorry it's just…I haven't had food in days."

My smile fell to a frown and I felt ashamed for my comment. I had no idea that her family was without food. She didn't seem to mind though and I tried my best to eat.

It was just about time for her to leave. I had risen from my seat and after taking three or so steps I felt incredibly weak and everything went black.

* * *

Hours had passed as he laid in his bed. He had a horrible fever, and his body was sweating and trembling as he slept. His family was convinced it was just stress or a cold, but Franchesca could have sworn she felt her heart break to pieces—Rafael had the blue sickness. He was going to die. No one survived. How was this possible? They just met and now he had the same symptoms as her aunt.

She wrote another letter to her mother to explain that the weather was too harsh to be out in. She knew her mother would worry, but she was more worried about this guy she had just gotten close to.

When he awoke it was confession time. At first he tried to convince her to leave.

"You should leave. You need to be with your family. I'll be fine! I already feel a little better."

She raised her brows and told him to be serious. "Don't lie to me!"

Rafe looked at her in shock and was silenced for a minute. He was in thought as he looked at her. Something about her…he felt guilty and felt like he let her down. She seemed on the verge of tears.

"You're right. I am lying," he sat up, "yesterday I went out to get supplies, but I wasn't planning on coming back home. I was going to leave the food at the door before running off. You need to leave here and hope you don't also become sick. Don't you dare stay…I wouldn't be able to handle it if I knew that you got sick because of me."

Franchesca was leaning over him as she rested on her legs. A sigh escaped her as she took in what he was telling her. It was so hard for her not to yell at him. It was hard not to yell period because she had feelings for this guy she had just met.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said softly. "I'm going to take care of you. I think we met on that street for a reason," she felt his head before kissing it.

"You felt it too? When I saw you—it was something I cannot put into words. It felt like you were mine….I'm not a possessive person, but there was just something that drew me to you. Who knows? Maybe I'll survive this, yeah?" He nuzzled his head against her soft hand.

"You're so sweet. Almost too sweet," she shook her head. "Rest. I'll be in the other room if you need me."

Rafe opened his mouth and paused a moment before nodding and just saying goodnight.

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night coughing. It was difficult to tell how long I had been asleep, but the house was quiet. I was shivering in a cold sweat with a pain in my groin area. I was terrified to look and thankful for the darkness. The problem was I had seen enough bodies to know what was under the blankets.

Using all my strength I got up from the bed and was trying to get away. I wanted to get away from everyone to not get them sick. That was always how it started: one got sick and died and the rest quickly followed. It would be the most horrible thing to be responsible for the pain and death of those I cared about.

When I started coughing uncontrollably again it gave me away to a sleeping figure on the couch. Within a minute or so I saw a lamp coming towards me. Those green eyes greeted me with pity and concern.

"Why are you out of bed? It's the middle of night Rafe." She felt my head again and I never wanted her soft touch to leave my damp skin.

"You're on fire," she lowered the lamp and gasped when she saw my hands. "Your fingers…ay dios mio! They're black."

She moved the lamp away and ushered me back into my bedroom. Franchesca used all the candles she could find to light my room completely. To my surprise she wasn't disgusted by these new symptoms…only more concerned.

"Why are you still here? I told you to go home. You shouldn't be around me," I groaned from the pain of lying back down. I pulled the blankets back over me.

"I couldn't leave you. I thought about going home…I was even at the door at one point. There was just no way I could leave you like this."

She sat down on my bed again with a wet cloth to clean my face.

"I had a dream about us," I confessed. "We were on horses in some far away jungle. You were so brave and strong…yelling out all these orders to soldiers that nearly worshipped you. But you looked directly at me and I knew that you loved me and would do anything for me."

Franchesca seemed suddenly pale after I finished the tale of my dream.

"No….you speak nonsense!" She backed away from me with a look of fear, "Your fever has made you mad."

I calmed her down enough and finally she was able explain why she was so shaken up. "Rafe, I dreamed that same dream two nights before this. How could you know that?"

I was confused but I remembered it clear as day. "I'm not mad, Franchesca. I saw you on that black horse like some great mythic leader. You were perfection with your long black hair and those green eyes."

"It was you?" She was also confused. The dream she had was from her perspective. The soldier looking at her wore armor that protected him and a helmet that shielded a bit of his identity. It was obvious to her that they had a deep relationship, but in times like that, a loving glance was all that showed it. She turned her horse away from him and gave orders to ride on.

"It was me, but how is that possible?" I was exhausted from coughing.

"I don't know. Maybe some things are best left unanswered."

It made me wonder if there were other mysteries out there that tied us together. There was so much I wanted to share with her. My eyes were heavy now and I scared of falling asleep in fear that I wouldn't wake up. I couldn't tell her this, but that was how I felt at the moment. The pain and the fever was becoming so much that part of me wished to die. I felt Franchesca kiss my cheek before my eyes would no long stay open.

* * *

When I woke up he was gone. There was no questioning it. Part of me was happy because I knew he was no longer in pain, but another part screamed as I felt like I had lost another part of me.

I wasn't feeling well when I joined his family for breakfast. I wasn't hungry and they forced me to eat. Part of me wondered if they did it so I'd leave his bedroom. When the cart came to take him away I followed it down it the road some.

It was then I realized that I was close to home. When I knocked on the door it took a while for someone to answer; I think they were afraid to open it.

My mother answered the door and hugged me with such force upon seeing me. I broke down into tears and cried into her shoulder.

"He's dead," I repeated to her. "He was my soul mate. I swear to you he was."

She was rubbed the back of my head and tried to calm me down. "I'm sure he was, baby. Come on inside and lay down. You don't look good."

I knew that she was right because I didn't feel so good either. "I think I'm sick Mama. I feel so cold."

She wrapped a blanket around me and laid my head on her lap. I closed my eyes and listened as she told me the story of the young girl who had found love in a man who was of noble blood. He was charming but their love was forbidden, so they ran away from their families to be together. I remembered the happy ending before I went to sleep.


End file.
